Jared Waddell wrote:

I know, I know. It's been what...a month since I tossed out the spamfic
of this? Well, here's episode one. I plan on being done within six
episodes...and getting that many out could take a while with my other
stuff.

Without further ado!

========================================================================

The young girl stood just inside of the school gates, taking the measure
of this new place. Sure, it looked great from the outside--a far cry

>from the schools she had attended in the past--but there was more to a

building than it's cladding, more to a book than it's cover.
 

% its

She'd read that somewhere.
 

% on a book cover.

She nodded to herself. This was much better than the pink uniforms of
her previous school. With that single long look complete, she stepped
through the gates, the script 'Ohtori Academy' spread above her in fine
bronze.
 

% Oh, this should be some surreal prose.

[Class is Hell.]


Osaka entered her new classroom at the request of Yukari-sensei, and
stood before the chalk board.
 

% Ah ha, so Osaka is not the only transplanted character

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Yukari-sensei waved the decision away. "Sit
there." She 

% there," she

said, pointing to a seat next to the short-haired girl who
did the shouting.

"Osaka" moved to her seating,

seat

finding herself between the loud girl and
a girl with long hair and glasses. Each one was trying as hard as
possible not to look at each other, which left the new girl feeling like
someone was trying to make her invisible.

Shrugging, Osaka sat and opened her text book.

"All right class, turn to page 126 in 'A Modern History of Japan.'"
Yukari-sensei announced.

Half of the class blinked in unison.

The other half stared blankly.

"She's our _English_ teacher. Is she drunk?" The

% the

% You might want to look that speaking rule thing up.

Randomly, Yukari would stop in front of a student and bend down to
examine their face closely, like a pathologist examining a fatal wound.
After a moment of unbroken terror, during which her subject would try
not make a sound, move a muscle, breathe, or let his of her heart beat,
Yukari would sniff dismissively and move on, like a wolf looking for
fresh meat.
 

% I think a pathologist looking for fresh meat would be a better 
metaphor, since she was examining fatal wounds earlier. :)

The next

The girl

to her, the one with the glasses, didn't move a muscle, didn't
flinch, didn't so much as change the rythym of her breathing. Yet, Osaka
had the feeling that if she had moved, if she had done anything, she
would have offered Osaka a blindfold and a cigarette.
 

have been offered a (sound better)

 

tell you! She'll have my hide if I talk! Have to find a place to hide!
Have to find a place to hide!" She drew her legs up to her chest and
began rocking slowly back and forth, chewing nervously on her chopsticks
and looking around wildly all the while repeating the words 'too cute'
like a mantra to ward off evil.
 

% Heh. Chiyo must have some role

"Her comfort is not my primary concern." He said in a voice like milk
chocolate.

Osaka's stomach rumbled.
 

5 Heh. Cute

SHE was supposed to have one already? "I don't carry swords, usually."
Osaka said nervously. "They're dangerous." It was true, too. Who would
want to risk tripping while carrying a sword? And while on that huge
spiral staircase? These duelests were real thrill-seekers all right.
 

% Heh

"Yay! I won! I won!" Osaka exclaimed. She took Saiyonji by the arm and
danced him over to Yomi, whom she grabbed with her other hand and
continued to dance about. "Let's go out and celebrate!"

And so ended Osaka's first duel at Ohtori Academy.
 

% Surreal

Yomi frowned. "Osaka, this is important. This stupid student council is
really dangerous! Do you think I dress up like a Brittish twit and water
roses for my health?"
 

% Lord knows I do. :)

----------

[Please. Do Not Hug. The Megalomaniac.]
 

% That's just beautiful. You should put that on a tee shirt.

% Cute work, don't know how long you can keep it going, though.
 

DB Sommer


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